A Dog's Life
by Zanza8
Summary: What if Arya and the Hound didn't walk away from the Eyrie? A story not exactly faithful to the books or the show, but my idea of what could have happened if the Hound brought the sisters together.
1. Chapter 1

_Prologue:_

"_Who would pass the Bloody Gate?"_

_The challenge rang out sharply and the Hound sent his answer back as strongly. "The bloody Hound! Sandor Clegane and his…" He looked down at Arya and she raised her eyebrows at him. What was she to him at this moment? He hesitated, then finished, "...traveling companion, Arya Stark, niece to your Lady Lysa Arryn."_

_The guard bowed his head for a moment. "Then I offer my condolences. Lady Arryn died three days ago."_

_The Hound froze, all his expectations so dashed that he couldn't react. Not so Arya. She burst out laughing, cackling really, and the guards all traded glances as she looked up at the big man by her side and then bent over, her laughter echoing around the pass. It was the looks on the guard's faces that brought the Hound out of his shock-their mingled disapproval and mounting anger at Arya's behavior caused him concern and he hissed at her, "Shut the fuck up." She gulped and put her hands over her mouth, still giggling, and he shook his head at her, then called up to the guards, "In that case we'll be on our way."_

"_That you will not," the head guard called back. "Lady Arryn is dead but her husband, Petyr Baelish, is Lord Protector of the Vale and will wish to see his wife's niece."_

_The Hound blanched and Arya, seeing his reaction, clenched her fists and yelled, "I don't wish to see him!" She pulled out Needle and brandished it, scowling up at the men on top of the gate._

_The guard motioned with his hand and the archers along the road bent their bows. "I don't care what becomes of your companion, Lady Stark, but come up to the Eyrie you must and will."_

"_Now you've done it," the Hound muttered. "Put that thing away."_

"_I'm not afraid of them!" said Arya defiantly._

"_Put it away, I tell you! We can't fight our way out of here-they'll shoot me and take you before we get ten feet." The Hound looked up at the guards as Arya reluctantly sheathed her sword. "We will come up." They started forward and he spoke with a quiet urgency that held the girl's full attention. "Littlefinger has no love for me and he has always craved money. He'll probably sell me to the Lannisters."_

"_Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" she asked bitterly._

"_Keep your voice down!" The Hound looked apprehensively at the men opening the gate. "I don't expect you to feel anything for me but if he sells me, I want you to get away. Stick somebody with your pretty blade if you have to, but run as far and as fast as you can."_

"_Why?" His fear had communicated itself to Arya and she moved closer to him as they passed through the gate and it shut behind them._

"_Because he's not to be trusted. I know things about him...things I don't have time to tell you now. I've never lied to you, Arya. I want you to promise you'll leave if I'm not there to watch over you."_

_It was the use of her name that brought home to her the seriousness of the situation and she touched his hand briefly. "I promise, Sandor." Their eyes met, this first use of their names sealing the promise, and he nodded, then pulled on his collar, wincing. The wound on his neck was badly inflamed and Arya said sourly, "At least in the Eyrie there'll be a healer for your fleabite. If Littlefinger expects to sell anything but your corpse, he'll have to have that seen to."_

_The Hound shot the girl a black look but there was no time for further conversation as the personal guards of the Eyrie came forward and surrounded them._


	2. Chapter 2

They were brought into the High Hall and marched down the long room to stand in front of the weirwood throne. Petyr Baelish lounged in the ancient seat of the Arryns, a mocking half-smile on his face and at his side…

Arya's eyes widened at the sight of the tall redhead standing next to the throne. "Sansa!"

She ran forward as her sister hurried down the steps and then they were locked in each other's arms, tears streaming down both their faces. "I thought you were dead," Sansa said brokenly.

"And I heard that you were a prisoner in King's Landing." Arya pulled back from her sister and scanned her face. "There was a story that you married the Imp."

Sansa nodded miserably. "I had to-they gave me no choice, but Lord Baelish helped me to escape after Joffrey died." She shuddered at the memory. "He drank poison at his wedding feast and the queen accused me and Tyrion...they were going to execute me…" She clutched Arya again, sobbing on her sister's shoulder.

Baelish smiled broadly at the Hound. "You have done well to bring about such a tender reunion."

Sandor's jaw tightened and he maintained a surly silence, but Arya heard Baelish' remark and remembering the price on her companion's head, she said coldly, "The Hound brought me here in safety. What are you going to do to him?"

For the first time Sansa noticed the scarred man standing before the throne and she blinked in confusion as his dark eyes bored into her. Then he turned his attention back to Baelish, who was giving Arya a look of wide-eyed innocence. "I'm not going to do anything to him, child," the Lord Protector of the Vale said reassuringly. "I want only to reward him handsomely and send him on his way. Does that meet with your approval?"

"He needs a healer first," said Arya. The Hound glared at her and she glared back. "He has an infected wound on his neck."

"I don't need a healer," said the big man gruffly.

Sansa approached Sandor, twisting her hands. "Ser…"

"I'm not a knight," he snapped.

"I had forgotten," said the girl softly. "Forgive me...I only wanted to tell you we have good healers here. Please let them look at you."

The Hound cursed to himself. He had meant to ransom the little wolf to her kin and leave her in what safety the Eyrie could provide, and he was sure his life was not worth a grain of salt with Baelish in command, but there was the rub. Baelish ruled here, Lady Arryn was dead, and now there was not only the little wolf but the little bird to think of. He couldn't go now and leave them to the mercy of this whoremaster who had betrayed their father, no matter what happened to him. He sighed heavily. "Aye, I'll see your healer." He saw Arya smirk and he said fiercely, "But no fire!"


	3. Chapter 3

The Hound looked around the small room he had been assigned-a bed, a table and chair, a chest to hold clothes, and a window looking out on one of the most breathtaking views he had ever seen. The whole of the Vale lay under his eyes and he sat in the windowsill gazing over the fields and wishing he were out there, safely away from this place. No matter how beautiful it was, it was a trap that he didn't expect to escape from with his life and although that life had been a sad and bitter thing for almost as long as he could remember, he was not ready to surrender it yet.

His door opened and Arya darted in, followed more slowly by an old woman and two youths, one carrying a basket and the other pushing a brazier red with hot coals. Sansa brought up the rear. Sandor's eyes widened at this invasion but before he could say anything, Sansa came forward. "This is Morwen, the best healer in the Vale."

He didn't move from the windowsill. "I said no fire."

"The fire is for me, young man," said the healer with asperity. "Should you live long enough, you will find the cold bites into old bones."

"It's not that cold in here," said the Hound.

"It is to me!" Morwen was truly old, her face a mass of wrinkles, a mop of white hair floating around her body, her back bent, but Sandor could see that her features were very fine and he could imagine that once she must have been beautiful. She had the imperious manner of a beautiful woman as she gestured to the bed. "Now come over here and let me look at your neck."

Grumbling, he went over to the bed and sat down and she handed him a flask from the basket. "What is this?"

"Honeyed wine. It should help you relax."

The Hound grinned. "Aye, that it should." He drank it down in a couple of swallows, making a face at the taste. "Too much honey." He handed the flask back to the woman. "Well, get on with it."

Morwen smiled. "In a moment."

He looked at her suspiciously but he had trouble getting her face in focus. The room was blurring and spinning and he tried to stand, then started to fall. The youths with Morwen caught him, straining under his weight, and eased him onto the bed as she bent over him, lifting an eyelid and nodding with satisfaction.

"That was quicker than I expected. Of course he's half-starved and very sick…"

Arya grabbed the woman's arm. "What did you give him?"

Morwen straightened up. "Sweetsleep."

"Sweetsleep!" Sansa came over to the bed, appalled. "That's a poison! You'll kill him."

The old woman freed herself from Arya and patted Sansa reassuringly on the shoulder. "It's not a poison in very small doses. It just sends a person into a very deep sleep. And he needs to be asleep for this." She unlaced Sandor's shirt. "Do you see these red streaks running from the wound? This is a very bad infection-it needs to be thoroughly cleaned out and burned." She touched the scarred side of her patient's face. "It looks like he's suffered enough from fire in his life."

"He has," said Arya somberly. The healer looked at her quizzically but she shook her head. It wasn't for her to tell what the Hound had confided about his brother.

Morwen turned back to her patient and felt his face. "You should know there is a chance he may not live. There is a smell of rot and he has a fever. If this were his arm or his leg, I would take it off. As it is…"

"He _has_ been walking a lot slower." Arya stared down at the Hound, then said briskly, "I'm not worried. He's too strong to die from something like this."

"I hope you're right, girl." The healer took out several small knives and put them in the coals, then started cutting the stitches on Sandor's neck. "Did he do this himself?"

"I did it." Arya frowned. "He wouldn't let me burn it, but he let me wash it out and stitch it."

Morwen picked out the last of the threads. "You did a good job." The small knives were glowing red and she wrapped a cloth around one of them and lifted it from the fire. "This won't be pleasant. You girls should leave now."

"No." Sansa regarded Sandor with a troubled expression. "He always protected me in King's Landing. I want to stay."

Arya took her sister's hand. "I'm staying too."


	4. Chapter 4

Sansa was sitting on the balcony of her pretty chamber when Arya came in without knocking and brought a chair over to sit next to her sister. "What are we going to do now, Sansa?"

"What do you mean?"

The younger girl looked around, then leaned closer and whispered, "We can't stay here. The Hound said we can't trust Littlefinger."

Sansa frowned. "Lord Baelish saved me when the queen would have had me executed. I have no reason to distrust him."

"And I have no reason to distrust the Hound," said Arya stubbornly. "He saved me when Robb and Mother…"

The older girl took her sister's hands. "Were you there when it happened?"

Arya nodded, choking on unshed tears, and Sansa put her arms around her sister until the younger girl was able to go on. "I wanted to kill Walder Frey...I was going to run right into the hall, but the Hound took me away. And he kept me safe all the way here. He may be the worst shit in the Seven Kingdoms…"

"Arya!"

The younger girl ignored her sister's exclamation of outrage. "...but he's the only friend I had in the world. He could have sold me to the Lannisters or the Freys, but he kept trying to bring me back to my family. I even took him off my list."

"List?" asked Sansa.

Arya felt guilty about mentioning the list-she didn't want her sister to know she had a list of people she was planning to kill. She remembered her bravado about sword fighting when they were together with their father in King's Landing, but it was different now that she really was a killer. It wasn't something she wanted to brag about to Sansa. Somehow being with her sister reminded her of the girl she used to be, the one without blood on her hands, the one who hadn't seen her father die and her brother's body with the head of his wolf in place of his own. Tears threatened again but she forced them back and spoke resolutely. "You can do what you want, but I'm not staying here with Lord Baelish. Once the Hound is better, I'm leaving with him."

Sansa was still thinking about what Arya had said long after her sister left. There were questions that only Sandor Clegane could answer, and once the evening meal was done, she stole off to his room. One of Morwen's assistants was sitting with him and Sansa asked softly, "How is he?"

"About as well as can be expected, my lady," said the boy. "His fever is worse but the infection is draining. My mistress thinks there is a good chance he will recover very soon."

"So he's not going to die?" Sansa felt a surge of happiness she was unable to account for but had no wish to deny, and the assistant smiled at the look on her face.

"It would seem so, my lady. If you would like to sit with him…"

"Oh, yes!" The girl heard the excitement in her voice and said coolly, "That is, if you have no objection I will take a turn with him."

"Of course, my lady." Morwen's assistant went to the door. "I shall return in an hour. If he wakes and is in pain, give him the watered wine."

Sansa took the chair by Sandor's bed, breathing a silent prayer to the Mother. He was sleeping, his hair fallen in tangles over his face and she brushed it back, then wrung out a cloth in a bowl of water. Turning back to him, she was disconcerted to find his eyes, bright with fever, open and fixed on her face.

"What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?" he whispered.

She wiped his face and tried to smile. "I wanted to see how you were doing. I know you are not a knight, but you were the noblest of them all in King's Landing." His face was like a thundercloud as she finished softly, "I should have gone with you when you left."

"Aye, you should have." His voice was faint, but bitter. "You wouldn't leave with me but Lord Baelish...that's a different story. It doesn't matter what he did, all you care about is his pretty face and his pretty ways…"

His voice trailed away and Sansa leaned over him. "What did Lord Baelish do?" There was no response and Sansa took the Hound's hand. "Sandor, tell me. What did he do?"

The Hound sighed, his eyes wandering around the room. "What does it matter now? He betrayed Ned Stark...held a knife to his throat and turned him over to the queen…" He looked up at Sansa. "Is there anything to drink?"

She was in shock over his revelation but she poured a cup of watered wine and helped him drink, then wiped his face again and watched him fall asleep, her mind in turmoil. Could it possibly be true that Petyr Baelish was responsible for her father's death? Or was it just the rambling of a sick man who didn't know what he was saying? She wanted to question Sandor further, but he didn't wake again before the young assistant returned and she had to leave the Hound to his restless dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

For the next two days Sansa haunted Sandor's room, sitting with him as often as she could, but he said nothing further about her father or Lord Baelish. Nor was he recovering as Morwen had hoped.

"Is he getting better or isn't he?" Sansa asked anxiously on the evening of the second day.

The old healer was washing out the wound on Sandor's neck as he lay twitching in a light sleep and she said reassuringly, "The infection is almost cleared up. He'll not die, my lady."

"I thought he would be better soon." Sansa paced back and forth, biting at a fingernail.

"So did I," said Morwen, bandaging her patient. "He's young and strong, but the infection ran deeper than I realized. He'll throw off this fever, I'm sure of it."

Sansa came over to the bed. "He's getting so thin."

"He won't eat anything." The old woman eyed the young one. "Perhaps if _you_ tried…" Sansa nodded eagerly and Morwen got out of the chair by the bed and took up a small bowl of gruel. "See if you can get him to eat some of this. Even if it's just a spoonful or two, and don't give him the watered wine unless he's in pain-it's better if he drinks water." She went to the door. "I'll leave you to it."

Left alone, Sansa put the bowl on a small table next to the bed, then took the sick man's hand. "Sandor?"

He was in a twilight state between sleeping and waking but her voice reached him and he opened his eyes. "Are you here again?"

"I'm here." Sansa brushed his hair back where it was clinging to his forehead, then wrung out a cloth and wiped his face. "The healer tells me you're not eating."

"Not hungry." The Hound closed his eyes and turned his face away and Sansa regarded him with exasperation. Suddenly he reminded her of Bran or Rickon when they were sick. Why were boys always so contrary?

She picked up the bowl and spoon and said more sharply, "Sandor!" He winced at her tone but looked up at her and she gentled her voice. "I want you to eat something. You can take a little, can't you? For me?"

He regarded her uneasily, his mind clouded with fever, his memory of the past few days hazy. He seemed to remember saying something that upset her, but he couldn't recall what it was. He didn't like the way she was looking at him now, so sweetly appealing, as if his health were a matter of concern to her. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? She was holding out a spoon. Perhaps if he ate something she would go away.

He opened his mouth and took the spoon, gagging at the taste, and Sansa regarded him with a sternness he would not have credited her with. "It's not that bad."

"No, it's worse." Resigned, he ate two spoonfuls of gruel, then shook his head when she offered more.

She put the bowl back on the table and picked up a cup. "Thirsty?"

He nodded and she helped him drink, hiding a smile as he complained, "I need something more than plain water."

"The healer says it's better for you than wine."

"The healer says…" Sandor could feel the fever rising in him and he couldn't quite concentrate. "What else does the healer say? Am I going to die?" His eyes were full of fear. "Don't let them burn me. Promise me...I don't care if you leave me for the crows or drop me through the Moon Door...no fire…"

Sansa soothed him as if he were a child waking from a nightmare. "You're not going to die, Sandor. Not for a long long time. And when you do, there'll be no fire. I promise." He relaxed then, and she wanted badly to ask him about Lord Baelish, but she could see the grip his sickness had on him and she pushed her questions to the back of her mind. "Can you promise me something? Promise me you'll do what the healer says, and eat? You have to get well-I need you, and so does Arya." She gazed at him earnestly and he was confused, both about what she was saying and the way she was saying it, but he nodded. She smiled at him then, and as he drifted off to sleep he thought he would be glad to die if his last act on earth had been to make Sansa Stark happy.


	6. Chapter 6

Petyr Baelish smiled broadly at Sansa as she made her way into the High Hall of the Arryns and took her place next to Arya. "I am glad you were able to join us for supper, my dear. I was beginning to wonder if you were taking up training as a healer."

"No, my lord." She poured a glass of wine and took a small sip.

"And yet you have been spending a great deal of time with Morwen, helping her with the Hound."

Sansa nodded her thanks to a server as he handed her a plate. "Sandor Clegane was the only protector I had in King's Landing. I would have been dead, or worse, without him. I simply wish to repay his kindness by ensuring he is well cared for."

"The _only_ protector?" Baelish eyed the girl speculatively and she blushed.

"Forgive me, my lord. I...that is…"

"No, that's all right, Sansa." Baelish toyed with his goblet. "I helped you escape from King's Landing, but I wasn't able to protect you during your time there."

Sansa smiled gratefully. "That is all I meant, my lord."

"I know some terrible things happened to you. I heard an ugly tale of how during the riot the mob raped you and no one came to your defense but somehow you escaped with your life..."

"That's not true!" Sansa sputtered indignantly. "The Hound saved me before anyone could do anything to me! He was so brave…" She stopped talking and drained her glass, refilling it with a shaky hand.

Baelish was watching the girl's reaction to his fabricated story with great interest and now he said smoothly, "It seems there is more to the Hound than I realized. I will be glad when he is well and I can give him a fitting reward."

Arya opened her mouth, then winced as Sansa kicked her under the table. The younger girl heeded the mute warning and the rest of the meal passed in silence until Baelish excused himself with a plea of pressing business and left the sisters alone.

"I want to see the Hound," said Arya fiercely. "I haven't been able to see him since that first day and I'm not going to be kept out any more."

"Arya, please…" Sansa understood Arya's wish to see Sandor, but he was still delirious at times and she dreaded the thought that he might say something about Baelish and their father to her little sister. She was determined to talk to the Hound first and find out if there was any truth to what he had said. If Baelish had betrayed their father, there would be time enough to tell Arya about it, but she didn't want her sister to be tortured with wondering what had really happened, or confronting Baelish.

"No!" Arya slammed back from the table and stood up, her fists clenched. "He told me I was lucky to have him to protect me, he said he saved you from rapers, and I didn't believe him. I called him a liar..."

"So now you want to apologize?" Sansa sighed. "Arya, I want to talk to him too, but he's been too sick. He hasn't been making much sense."

"I don't care about that. Every time I tried to get in, that healer or her assistants stopped me. And you've been in and out every day, and you're not the one who lived with him for months. You're not the one who traveled all over Westeros with him."

"And you're not the one he pulled out of a riot!" Sansa's eyes filled with tears and Arya abandoned her anger and put her arms around her sister.

"So it's true? They were going to…"

Sansa put her hand over Arya's mouth. "Don't say it. Please don't...I can't stand to think of it, I still have nightmares about it."

"But he saved you?" Arya's eyes widened as Sansa nodded. "We can't let Littlefinger hurt him, Sansa. He's the only one I trust, he's the only one who can get us away from here."

"And where would we go?" Sansa asked wearily. "Mother and Father and Robb are all dead, Winterfell is gone, and I'm a fugitive from justice, accused of poisoning the king. Where in the Seven Kingdoms would we be safe?"

"We could leave the Seven KIngdoms," said Arya. "We can go to Braavos-I have friends there."

"What friends?"

Arya avoided her sister's eyes. "Well, maybe not friends. But Syrio came from Braavos…"

"Syrio?"

"My sword-master." Arya lifted her chin at the look on Sansa's face. "Father hired him to teach me how to use Needle properly."

"And you think he's in Braavos?"

"No." The younger girl stared at the floor. "He was killed by Meryn Trant, saving my life...the guards attacked us and Syrio fought them off so I could get away. He gave his life for me...maybe he had friends or even family in Braavos. And the Hound could get us there and probably find work as a guard or a sellsword…" Arya's voice rose at the look on Sansa's face. "It's better than nothing! I didn't want to come here and I don't want to stay here."

Sansa took Arya's hands. "We can't do anything by ourselves. We have to wait until Sandor is better. Once we can talk to him, we can decide what to do, together."

Baelish turned away from the intricately carved panel that hid a secret passage to the hall. Lysa, pathetic jealous woman that she had been, had had the passage constructed years ago, shortly after her marriage to Jon Arryn, so she could spy on him when he was in council. She had shown Baelish the passage after he asked her to marry him, and he had been amused. Now he was grateful for his dead wife's distrustful nature. So Sansa thought she was going to run away from him, and with Sandor Clegane of all people. Baelish would have to give serious thought to the matter. The Hound would have to be disposed of, but in a manner that left Baelish blameless in the eyes of the Stark sisters, and that would not be easy as they were already suspicious of him. It was a pity he hadn't died of his infected wound, but the healer was sure he would recover completely. Selling him to the Lannisters was out of the question-the sisters would come to hear of it sooner or later. Baelish smiled, and a very unpleasant smile it was. It was the sort of challenge he enjoyed, getting rid of an enemy in a way that allowed him to escape accusation.

It fell out that the day after Baelish spied on Sansa and Arya, the Hound's fever finally broke and he rapidly improved in health until less than a week later he requested a private audience with the Lord Protector of the Vale. Baelish waited until he knew Sansa and Arya had retired for the night before going to the Hound's room, consumed with curiosity. He knew that both girls had been helping the healer with him, and he was sure they must have all talked a great deal about what they planned to do, but even his fertile imagination could not come up with a reason why the Hound would want to see _him_.

He knocked softly on the door and was admitted by Morwen, who pursed her lips in disapproval. "My lord, to come so late when my patient still needs his rest…"

"All I need is for you to leave." The Hound scowled at the old woman and she huffed indignantly.

Baelish grinned. "Morwen, I think he's safe enough to talk for a few minutes. I won't stay longer than that."

She threw her hands in the air. "Spend the night if you like! It's off to bed for me...I'll not stay longer nursing this ungrateful uncooperative…" She went around Baelish, slamming the door behind her, and he looked gravely at the Hound.

"Have you been giving the best healer in the Vale difficulties, Clegane?"

Sandor got out of the bed and started to dress. "She may be a fine healer but she's a bossy old woman and I no longer need her services. I no longer need anything but my reward so I can be on my way."

Baelish looked keenly at the other man. The Hound's face was pale and drawn and his hands trembled with weakness, but there was a determination in his face that brooked no argument. "Just how much of a reward were you thinking?"

"A hundred gold dragons." The Hound sneered at the look on Baelish' face. "Come now, my lord, we both know you'll have ten times that hidden somewhere and Arya Stark would be cheap at twice the price, or her weight in gold, for that matter. Of course, if you don't want to pay me, I'll have to stay if I have no money to tide me over until I find a place to catch on."

"You would leave Sansa and Arya? I thought you were their friend," said Baelish slowly.

"I did what I did for Sansa Stark to curry favor in King's Landing with Joffrey and the queen," said the Hound with brutal frankness. "And I held onto Arya Stark for ransom. I can't help what they got into their little heads. Do I get my money or do I stay?"

Baelish shrugged and gave his toothiest smile. "You get your money."


	7. Chapter 7

Baelish was in his study, going over some accounts, when Sansa came to the door, smiling shyly. "Are you busy, my lord?"

He pushed the papers aside and stood up. "I'm never too busy for you, my dear. What can I do for you?"

Sansa walked into the room and over to the window, leaning on the sill gazing out over the Vale. Baelish joined her and for a moment they took in the view. "It's so beautiful," she murmured.

"It is indeed. I will be sorry when winter comes and we have to seek refuge in the Gates of the Moon. The castle is comfortable enough, but it lacks these spectacular views."

"I came to ask if Arya could be allowed to go riding. She's not used to being cooped up like this and…"

"And it may help take her mind off the Hound's desertion?"

Sansa nodded. "She is still angry. I don't know where she picked up such language."

Baelish shrugged. "Probably from the Hound. And you? Are you still angry?"

"I was never angry, my lord," said Sansa sadly. "Perhaps a little surprised that he would leave without saying goodbye, but I didn't really know him that well. It's probably for the best that he has gone, but Arya is still upset. I believe she really did think of him as a friend. It would help if she had something to do, some new interest that might reconcile her to the Eyrie."

"And you think riding would do it?" Baelish frowned. "I couldn't let you go alone."

Sansa looked surprised. "I didn't mean to go with her, my lord. I only asked because…" She blushed prettily. "She still doesn't trust you. She doesn't know you as I do."

Baelish bent forward and kissed the girl lightly on the forehead. "I will give your sister permission to ride every day if she likes, but she must take guards with her. And you should go as well-I think it would do you good to get some fresh air."

"If you say so, my lord." Sansa pressed his hand and left the study and Baelish watched her go, smiling complacently. It had been more than two weeks since he had given the Hound a bag of gold and seen him leave the Eyrie. He had spies everywhere, more as a habit than out of any real need to watch for danger in this impregnable stronghold, and not one had reported seeing Sandor Clegane. He was gone, and Sansa seemed completely reconciled to staying in the Eyrie. Her little sister, Arya, hated the place, but she also seemed to have realized there was no place to go. She had raged about the Hound leaving without a word, but she seemed calmer of late. Perhaps Sansa was right and all that was needed was an outing. Baelish had sometimes wondered whether he might have lost his ability to deal with decent women after spending so much time with whores, but he could see with Sansa and Arya that he had no problem maintaining complete control even over teenage girls. He sat back down at his desk with his mind already back on his accounts.

It was late in the day when Baelish finally settled all the paperwork to his satisfaction and went out to the Great Hall for supper, noting with surprise that although the table was laid for three and the servers were ready with the food, neither Sansa nor Arya were present. "Where are Lady Stark and her sister?"

The servers traded looks, then one of them stepped forward. "My lord, the ladies left this morning to go riding. They have not yet returned, but they took three of the guards with them. Surely if there were anything wrong…" His voice trailed away at the look on Baelish' face.

The Lord Protector of the Vale was as yet no more than concerned, but a suspicion that he might have been played for a fool was rising and he said sharply, "Get my personal guard!" The servers scattered and Baelish threw himself into a chair, fretting until the men came in, obedient but nervous.

The captain came forward and bent one knee. "My lord."

Baelish stood. "I want to know where Sansa and Arya Stark are."

The captain spread his hands. "They left the Eyrie with three of my best men to go riding."

"I gave my permission for them to go riding, not to stay out this late!" Baelish was aware he was shouting and forced himself to be calm. "I want you to find them. Take the whole guard if you have to, but find them."

They left and he recalled the servers and tried to eat, pushing the food around on his plate as the shadows lengthened and the sun finally set. The moon was rising when the captain of the guard finally returned, alone. Baelish came around the table. "Well?"

The man shuffled his feet. "Well, my lord, it seems the girls were galloping along the edge of a river and they got ahead of my men and out of sight. The guards were spurring their horses to catch up when they heard a scream and came upon Sansa Stark, holding the reins of her sister's horse. It seems the horse shied and threw her sister into the water. The guards were in armor, of course, and had to remove it before they could search. They found nothing, and Lady Sansa became hysterical. Two of the men stayed to continue the search, and the third took my lady to a small village nearby."

The captain fell silent and Baelish prompted him. "And then?"

"Apparently she asked to use the privy, and…" The captain took a deep breath. "She never came out. The man with her became alarmed after a time, and went to see if she was all right, but she had vanished."

Baelish nodded slowly. "So now both girls are missing?"

"It would seem so, my lord. My men are still searching the river, and I have others looking through the village. It is possible Lady Sansa wandered away in some confusion of mind…"

Baelish made a fierce gesture and the captain closed his mouth, staring into the distance as the Lord Protector came close. "Now I want you to listen to me, captain, and see that you do not make a mistake. Sansa and Arya Stark are not lost. They have fled the Vale, and I want them found and returned. And when you find them, make sure you take Sandor Clegane alive and bring him back as well."

The captain shook his head. "The Hound? My lord, he has been gone for weeks."

Baelish clenched his fists. "They planned this, the three of them. Mark my words, captain, when you find the Starks, the Hound will not be far. Bring them all to me, alive, and you will be rewarded beyond the dreams of avarice. Fail me…" He gave a significant glance to the Moon Door and the captain swallowed hard.

"I will not fail, my lord." He backed out of the room and Baelish went down the hall and sat on the throne, fuming. So they had tricked him. The Hound had gotten enough gold to support himself and the girls for at least a year, and as for the girls…Baelish thought of how well they had played their parts, Arya pretending to be angry, Sansa so demure and sweet, and his anger rose until it seemed like a red haze before his eyes. They would pay, all of them. He was not a cruel man. He wouldn't have the Hound burned alive in front of the girls, the first thought that had crossed his mind. No, he would simply lock the man in the smallest steepest sky cell in the Eyrie and leave it at that. Arya would be married off to the first man willing to take her. And Sansa...he would forgive her. He would forgive her if she crawled and begged.


	8. Chapter 8

There was a soft knock at the door and the old woman held up a hand, then opened it a crack, pulling in a slight figure wrapped in a hooded cloak. She spoke to someone outside, then closed the door and bolted it. "You can let me have that cloak, dear."

Sansa pulled back the hood and unfastened the cloak, handing it to the woman and smiling with relief as Arya came running into the room, followed by Sandor Clegane. Her little sister hurled herself at her and for a moment they clung together, hardly able to believe that so far their plan was working. Then the Hound cleared his throat. "We'd best be on our way."

"You'll be on your way when it's safe to go!" said the old woman shrilly. "This young lady needs to get rid of those fancy clothes."

"Come on, Sansa," said Arya. "I've got some boy's clothes for you to change into."

Sandor frowned. "She's not going to be able to pass as a boy."

"No, but she can look less like a lady." Arya took her sister into the bedroom and they emerged a few minutes later, both dressed as boys in trousers and tunics and riding boots. Sansa had braided her hair and covered most of it with a stocking cap and Morwen expressed approval.

"Much better. And now you can just all sit you down and have some supper while my grandson sees to the horses and makes sure no one followed you. The Seven only know when you'll have a decent meal again…" She bustled off over to the hearth, grumbling, and the Hound's jaw tightened as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

"If I had known I would have to hide out here for two weeks, I would have demanded a thousand pieces of gold from Baelish."

"I heard that, young man!" The old woman brought a pot of stew to the table. "That's the gratitude I get, keeping you safe, jumping at every shadow…"

"All right, all right, there's no need to make a speech," said Sandor.

"And no need to make introductions?" She slapped a loaf of bread and a knife down in front of him.

He took a deep breath. "Lady Sansa Stark, Lady Arya Stark, meet Branwen, sister to Morwen, the best healer in the Vale. I am told Branwen is the best cook."

Branwen huffed at him. "I should hope you like my cooking-you've been eating enough for two men these past weeks."

"Well, you won't have to cook for me any more after tonight." The Hound sliced the bread and handed it around, then started in on the stew. "We'll be lucky to get out of the Vale before Baelish catches up with us."

Sansa and Arya traded glances. After his fever broke, the Hound had spoken to the girls about their father's death and the part Petyr Baelish had played in it, tricking Ned into thinking the City Watch was on his side and then handing him over to Cersei Lannister. Arya had been furious, clapping her hand to her sword and swearing that she would kill Littlefinger before the night was out. Only the Hound's harsh intervention had stopped her, as he informed her that even if she succeeded in killing Baelish, she would forfeit her own life, and his and her sister's as well. Even in her rage, Arya had realized the price for Baelish' life was too high and she sullenly agreed to escape the Vale and take her revenge later. Sansa still looked askance at her little sister-was it possible that Arya really did mean to someday kill Petyr Baelish? She confided in Sandor that anyone would think from the way Arya acted that she was already a practiced killer, but Sansa could not believe Arya would actually harm anyone, and the Hound did not enlighten her. Let Arya tell her sister in her own time-they had more important things to think of.

He still couldn't believe that Morwen, the old healer, had come to their aid, yet she was the one who broached the subject of him taking the girls away, and no matter how often he asked her why she would help them, she would only say that she hated Baelish and she didn't want to see any nice young girls under the same roof with him. He had been afraid to trust her, but Sansa and Arya had both been willing to take a chance on her, and he had to admit they had been right. For two weeks he had been at Branwen's farm and the only people he had seen was a simple-minded farm hand who lived in the barn and the old lady's grandson, who came by a couple of times a week to bring supplies and tell her the news in the village.

There was a soft knock again at the door and Branwen went cautiously over and peered through a knothole, then opened the door and let in the tall young man who had brought first Arya and then Sansa to the farm. "The horses are ready," he said. "And I packed as much food as I could into the saddlebags, and there are three waterskins as well."

"Water," grumbled the Hound.

Sansa gave him a look, then smiled at Branwen. "I don't know how to thank you. Your sister saved our friend's life, and now you and your grandson...you're taking such a risk to help us."

"Aye, and I'd like to know why," said Sandor.

"So would I," said Arya. "How do we know you're not just trying to trick us? Now that we're all together, Littlefinger can arrest all of us."

"Arya!" Sansa fluttered her hands. "I'm so sorry…she's always been _so _rude."

Branwen sighed. "I suppose you have a right to know. It may ease your minds-at least you won't be wondering if I'm going to set the Lord Protector of the Vale on you as soon as you leave." She sat down heavily and her grandson came to stand behind her, a hand on her shoulder. "I doubt you ladies have heard the tale, but I'm sure you know of the two girls Lord Baelish gave Prince Joffrey as a nameday present, young man?"

"I know I had to carry one away," said Sandor grimly.

The old woman's eyes filled with tears. "She was my sister's only granddaughter. She always had such grand ideas about going to King's Landing and making her fortune...ah, well, now you know why my sister asked me to help you, and why we would all rather die than see two girls under the same roof as that…"

Sansa and Arya were staring at Branwen and the Hound snapped, "Don't just sit there! The hunt will be on for us by now." They scrambled to get their things and he took out a gold dragon and laid it on the table.

Branwen shook her head. "I don't want your money."

"Take it anyway." Sandor spoke with unaccustomed softness. "Someday you may want to take a trip to Rosby-that's a little town near King's Landing. There's a cemetery there, and a grave marked with three dogs."

Sansa overheard him. "That's your sigil."

"Aye, and what of it?" The Hound avoided her eyes. "I had a sister once-a sweet little thing she was. She used to sing to me after…" He brushed his hand over the scars on his face. "It helped the pain, some of it. And then she died." His hands clenched on the table. "I don't suppose I'll ever know how it happened. All I know is she wasn't even given a decent burial." Branwen reached out, her small wrinkled hand patting the Hound's hard brown one, and he nodded to her once, then got to his feet and ushered Sansa and Arya out the door to the waiting horses.


	9. Chapter 9

They rode through the night, stopping in the grey light before the dawn in a tiny clearing near the edge of the forest. The Hound cast his eyes over the open fields beyond and shook his head. "I don't want to travel that in the daytime. We'll stay here for today and set out at sunset. There's still enough of a moon to see our way."

Arya and Sansa pulled up their horses, the younger girl sliding easily to the ground. Sansa was so sore she could barely move, and after watching her struggle for a moment Sandor went over to her and lifted her down, carrying her over to a tree and setting her down carefully.

"Thank you." She tried to smile. "I'm not used to riding so hard."

"You'll get used to it," said Arya, dropping her horse's saddle and bridle on the ground and turning to Sansa's horse. "It only took me a few days."

Sandor unbridled and unsaddled his own horse, then he and Arya hobbled all three animals and carried the saddlebags and waterskins over to Sansa. There were three small horn cups in one of the bags, and Sandor filled them and handed them to the girls. They drank thirstily and held out their cups for more, while he sipped slowly and contented himself with a single cup.

"Is there anything in there we have to cook before we can eat it?" he asked.

Arya rooted through the bags. "Dried meat, dried fruit, hard biscuits, even some cheese...no, we can make a meal as it is."

"Good." The Hound stretched out on the grass and folded his hands over his chest. "In that case, I'm going to sleep for a while."

"You should eat something first," Sansa protested. He ignored her, and was snoring softly in a few minutes.

Arya grinned at the look on Sansa's face. "I can't promise you'll get used to that." She and Sansa ate a few biscuits and a little fruit and cheese, then Arya took out Needle and began practicing.

"Where did you learn to do that?" asked Sansa.

"I told you. Father hired a sword-master for me." Arya spun gracefully, slashing to either side, then went down on one knee and thrust upwards.

"I wonder what Mother would say." Sansa held up a hand as her sister stopped dead with a hurt expression. "I'm sorry, Arya. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Mother always wanted us to be proper ladies...I used to want that too, until I found out just how much it cost to be a proper lady in King's Landing. If it wasn't for the Hound…" She shook herself. "I wonder if I could learn how to fight? At least enough to protect myself."

Arya went over to the sleeping Hound and took his knife from his belt. "I don't think you're the fighting type, Sansa, but that could be an advantage. Nobody would be expecting you to fight, so you could use a small knife like this and do some real damage."

"Isn't he going to mind you taking his knife?" asked Sansa, turning it over and over in her hands.

Her sister shrugged. "I'll tell him when he wakes up. It's not the first time I've taken it. Put it in your boot-if someone tries to grab you, go for their eyes or their throat, that's the quickest way to kill a man." Their eyes met and Arya saw all the questions Sansa was afraid to ask in her sister's face. "We should get some sleep too. It's going to be a long hard ride tonight."

"Shouldn't one of us stay awake to watch?"

Arya yawned. "You can stay awake if you want. I can't keep my eyes open much longer." She put her sword back in her belt and lay down, whispering to herself, and was asleep almost before she had finished saying the names she didn't want Sansa to hear.

It was late afternoon before the Hound woke. Sansa was still sitting against the tree, watching her sister sleep, and she smiled as Sandor sat up. "You were asleep a long time."

"Have you been awake all this time?" he asked.

"I didn't feel like sleeping." Sansa got to her feet. "And I thought someone should keep watch."

The Hound nodded. "That's good thinking." He stood up too, stretching, and Sansa walked over to him and held out his knife.

"Arya took this from you while you were sleeping."

His hands moved to his belt and he scowled at her sleeping sister. "That little devil-what did she want with it?"

"She wanted me to have it." Sansa met Sandor's eyes and said gravely, "She thought I should have some protection in case someone attacked us."

The Hound took the knife and tapped it in his palm thoughtfully. "She might be right at that." He handed it back. "Hold onto it for now." His eyes widened as the girl tucked it in her boot. "Did she tell you to do that?" Sansa nodded and Sandor shook his head. "Growing up too fast, that one is." He walked over to Arya and stirred her with his foot. "Wakey wakey."

She rolled over and bounced to her feet, glowering at him. "Why did you do that?"

"You see the shadows? It's late in the day and we need to get started."

He bent over the saddlebags and pulled out a biscuit and a strip of dried meat, chewing and swallowing as he put his saddle on his horse. Arya saddled and bridled her own horse and then picked up Sansa's saddle.

"Can you show me how to do it myself?" asked the older girl.

Arya demonstrated how to saddle the horse, then unfastened the girth and let Sansa tighten it herself. "That's good, Sansa. Tomorrow you can do it yourself." She picked up the bridle. "This is a little trickier. You should watch me a couple of times before you try it." She bridled the horse, then swung up on the back of her own animal. Sansa gripped her horse's mane and saddle, but when she tried to bring up her foot and put it in the stirrup, pain shot through her leg. She waited a moment and tried again, but she was too stiff and sore.

Sandor came over to her and picked her up, putting her on Stranger and vaulting up behind her. He settled himself, then turned to Arya. "Lead your sister's horse."

Tears came to Sansa's eyes. "I'm slowing you down."

"Well, we can't leave you behind so we'll have to make do. You can cry and complain if you want, I'm used to it from your sister." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and Arya gasped in outrage.

"I never cried! And I had plenty to complain about, after you kidnapped me."

"Aye, and traveled over half of Westeros thinking I'd be getting a reward for you." The Hound snorted. "Little did I know there wasn't enough gold in the Seven Kingdoms to make taking you worth it."

"As if you're any pleasure to travel with. Have you ever heard of soap?"

"I know it's good for washing out little girl's mouths."

Sansa laid her head on Sandor's shoulder, strangely comforted by the bickering between him and Arya. They weren't worried about her not being able to ride by herself. In fact, they seemed to be supremely confident in their abilities and at ease with the situation. Sansa yawned. She had not had any sleep for over a day and she was beginning to feel very tired. She knew they were all in terrible danger, but as she drifted off to sleep with Sandor's arms around her, she was conscious only of a feeling of complete safety.


	10. Chapter 10

Sansa sat in the sunlight, watching Arya practice with her sword. It had been two days since they left Branwen's farm, traveling by night and lying up by day, and she was beginning to get used to the pace set by the Hound. She rode her own horse now, and found pride in being able to ride all night and take care of the horse when it was time to stop. They were still well within Baelish' sphere of influence, but today they had finally made it out of the Vale and Sandor thought they could begin traveling by day. That was a relief. The moon was almost gone and Sansa had begun to worry that one of the horses would put a foot wrong in the dark and someone would get hurt.

Arya moved back and forth, weaving her sword from one hand to the other, a look of intense concentration on her face, and Sansa could almost forget they were fugitives. Then her sister froze, her sword at the ready. "People coming."

Sansa looked down the hill and saw a big blond woman, followed by a sturdy young man toting saddlebags on his shoulder. "I know her! That's Lady Brienne of Tarth. She was at Joffrey's wedding."

Arya didn't seem to have heard. Sandor was off in the bushes and she called to him, "You can shit later! There's people coming."

Sansa, blushing for Arya's language, realized her sister and the Hound didn't know who Brienne was and she scrambled to her feet as the woman climbed up to them, smiling pleasantly. She smiled back. "Lady Brienne."

Brienne stopped dead, staring at the girl. "Sansa Stark. What are you doing here?" She looked past Sansa at Arya, who was still in a guarded position with her sword ready. "And your sister, Arya?"

Sansa nodded as Sandor came around the rocks, fixing his belt. He took one look at Brienne and stepped in front of the girls. "You want something?"

The young man behind Brienne came to her side. "Sandor Clegane, the Hound."

Sandor put his hand to his sword. "I asked if you want something."

Brienne ignored him, staring at the two sisters. "I swore an oath to your mother that I would bring you home."

Arya said coldly, "Our mother's dead."

"I know." Brienne took a step forward. "I wish I could have been there to protect her. I swore a sacred vow to protect her."

"Why didn't you?"

Brienne's eyes fell. "She commanded me to take Jaime Lannister to King's Landing."

The Hound had heard enough. "You're paid by the Lannisters. You're here for the bounty on me."

Brienne shook her head. "I'm not paid by the Lannisters."

"No?" Sandor walked forward. "Fancy sword you've got there. Where did you get it?" Brienne's eyes darted between Sansa and Arya. They were both silent, waiting to see what she would say as the Hound went on, "I've been looking at Lannister gold my whole life. Go on, tell me that's not Lannister gold."

Brienne gripped the hilt of Oathkeeper. "Jaime Lannister gave me this sword." Sandor looked back at Sansa and Arya and the younger girl pushed her sister behind her. Brienne saw the distrust in both girls now and she said passionately, "I swore a sacred oath by the old gods…"

"I don't care what you swore!" Arya held her sword out.

"You heard the girl." Sandor had not drawn his sword but every muscle of his body had tensed. "They're not going with you."

Brienne drew her sword halfway. "They are. I'll take them to safety."

"Safety!" The Hound's face twisted with anger. "Where the fuck's that? Their aunt in Eyrie is dead. Their mother is dead. Their father is dead. Their brother is dead. Winterfell is a pile of rubble. There's no safety anywhere. If you don't know that, you dumb bitch, you're the wrong one to watch over them."

"And that's what you're doing, watching over them?" Brienne sneered at the Hound and a muscle jerked in his face, but he answered her with a quiet finality.

"Aye, that's what I'm doing."

She drew her sword, he followed suit, and Sansa ran between them before she knew what she was doing. "Stop!"

Sandor grabbed Sansa and pulled her close as he swung around to shield her from Brienne with his own body. Arya ran forward and he caught her as well, holding her tightly as she screamed and swore, flailing at Brienne with Needle. The blond woman took a step back in confusion and Podrick hurried to her side. "Milady, I think there is some misunderstanding here."

She gave him a thoroughly exasperated look, then laid her sword on the ground and straightened up, her hands out. "Perhaps we should all talk."

The Hound looked over his shoulder, then turned around fully, still holding Arya in an iron grip. She was silent now, her expression full of hate, and he shook her arm. "Put your sword away." Sansa clutched him, tears pouring down her face, and he stroked her hair reassuringly. "It's all right, little bird." He glared at Brienne. "What the hell do you want to say now?"

Brienne took a deep breath. "I don't think I understand the situation."

"Oh, you don't think you understand the situation?" Sandor spat contemptuously. "All you need to understand is that these girls have a protector. You can take your sacred oath and shove it up your…"

"Sandor!" Sansa pulled at his arm with trembling hands and he wiped the anger off his face to look at her. "I know this lady. She was in King's Landing at Joffrey's wedding. I never heard any wrong of her. Maybe...maybe we should listen to her."

"Do you want to go with her?" The Hound held his breath as he waited for Sansa's answer.

"No, of course not, but she knew my mother." Sansa gazed up at Sandor appealingly. "I want to hear what she has to say."

Arya had put Needle away but she still had her hand on the hilt. "I don't care what she has to say."

Podrick had been searching through the saddlebags and now he stepped forward. "Arya, is it? I have a gift for you." He held out a large canine-shaped cookie and Arya's eyes widened.

"Where did you get that?"

"From your friend Hot Pie." Podrick smiled. "He's quite a cook."

"I know." Arya took a hesitant step forward and Podrick handed her the cookie. She retreated back to the Hound and her sister. "Sansa, do you really want to talk to them?" Sansa nodded and Arya looked up at Sandor. "Maybe it wouldn't hurt."

Sandor was disgusted. "So they have a cookie that looks like an animal and you want to listen to them?"

"It's not just any animal." Arya waved the cookie at the Hound. "It's a direwolf. It's _my_ direwolf, Nymeria." She looked over at Brienne. "You can eat with us." The blond woman nodded and bent to retrieve her sword. "Leave it! If you want to talk, you'll talk unarmed."


	11. Chapter 11

The Hound saddled and bridled all three horses and packed everything on them, keeping himself and the animals between the girls and Brienne and her squire. That done, Sansa and Arya took out enough food for the five of them and set it out, withdrawing behind Sandor before inviting Brienne and Podrick to sit. The woman and her squire traded glances as Sandor stood between them and the girls, who sat closer to their horses than their guests. Sansa seemed fairly at ease, but Arya ate with one hand on her sword and the Hound seemed ready to pounce at the smallest threatening movement.

"Yes, well, this is a lovely day, isn't it?" asked Podrick. Four sets of eyes turned to him and he subsided, concentrating on his food.

"You wanted to talk," Sandor said. "Talk."

"Perhaps it looks bad, carrying a sword that was a gift from Jaime Lannister," Brienne started, not making the mistake of overlooking the Hound this time. She realized she had to convince the man as well as the girls that she was to be trusted and she divided her attention between him and the sisters. Casting her mind over all that had happened, she told of how Catelyn had ordered her to take Jaime to King's Landing to save his life, out of fear that his execution would cause the Lannisters to kill Sansa in retaliation. She talked about their travels, touching briefly on the attempted rape that Jaime had stopped, and his mutilation, noticing for the first time a softening in Sandor's face. He remained silent, and Brienne continued with their arrival in King's Landing and her relief at finding Sansa there. "At least you were safe, my lady."

"I wasn't," said Sansa coldly. "I was forced to marry Tyrion Lannister. And I was so afraid of Joffrey…" Her eyes filled with tears and the Hound's hand tightened on his sword.

"I am sorry, my lady," said Brienne softly. "After the wedding, after you fled, Jaime Lannister asked me to find you and take you home."

"Why?" asked Sandor. "Why should Jaime Lannister care what happened?"

"He's a changed man." Brienne tried to think of what to say to explain what Jaime was like now, but all the words that came to her sounded hollow and she shook her head helplessly. "There's nothing I can say will make you understand, but I swear on my honor, he gave me this sword to protect these girls."

"And what will you do now?" asked Sansa. "Now that you see we have a protector and we don't need you?"

Brienne chose her next words very carefully. "My lady, if you will permit me, I would ask permission to travel with you." She met Sandor's eyes. "Your reputation as a warrior extends over the Seven Kingdoms, but you are only one man. If something were to happen to you, these girls would be left all alone."

Sandor frowned, thinking of his recent illness. He knew he could easily have died, and the thought of his own mortality coupled with the responsibility he carried for Sansa and Arya's safety weighed heavily on him. If this woman could be trusted, he could share that responsibility. And if he were to fall, the sisters would still have someone to watch over them.

"You will give us time to talk," he said finally.

"Of course," Brienne replied. She watched as Sansa and Arya got to their feet and walked behind the horses with Sandor, and she didn't miss the way the girls looked at him, their expressions of absolute trust, even affection. Was that affection returned? She couldn't tell-the Hound's scarred face was impossible to read, but whatever he felt, his actions were fiercely protective.

The blond woman sighed. She supposed that she of all people in Westeros should know that a man's reputation is not all there is to him, after getting so close to Jaime Lannister and learning what kind of man he really was. Whatever the Hound's fearsome reputation, there was obviously more to him than common report spoke of.

Sandor came out from behind the horses followed by Sansa and Arya. "You can travel with us." Brienne got to her feet, smiling, and he said harshly, "If I ever have reason to doubt you, I'll kill you and your friend here. I won't even think about it." The sisters regarded Brienne gravely, obviously in complete agreement with the Hound's threat, and she bowed her head.

"I accept your terms." She turned to Podrick. "Get the saddlebags."

The Hound's eyes narrowed. "Where are your horses?"

Brienne raised her eyebrows at Podrick and he turned red. "I didn't hobble them properly and they ran off."

Sandor looked outraged. "No horses? We'd have to travel at foot pace, and if we're attacked…"

"Stop complaining," said Arya. "You've got plenty of money-you can buy a couple of horses." She and Sansa mounted their horses and Sandor swung up into his own saddle.

"Aye, I can buy horses for our new friends. Is there anything else I should get?"

"I need a new pair of boots. These are too tight."

"Give them to me and I'll cut the toes off for you."

Sansa smiled at Brienne. "You'll get used to that."

The blond woman smiled back. "I suppose I will."


	12. Chapter 12

They camped for the night near a small stream, Podrick seeing to the horses under Arya's supervision and Brienne gathering wood. Sansa prepared food, and even the Hound relaxed enough to sit by the fire. He still placed himself between Brienne and the girls, but he ate with them and after the food was done he was the one who opened the conversation about what they should do next. "We're going to have to get more horses."

"I already told you that," said Arya.

He gave her an annoyed look. "I don't know this country-are there any towns nearby?"

"We came through one a day ago called Saltpans," said Podrick. "It didn't look like much, but there were a couple of ships in the bay and they have a small castle. I'm sure we could get horses there."

Sandor frowned, thinking. "Aye, horses and some more supplies. We need food-there isn't much left."

"Then tomorrow we should all go and…" Brienne started but the Hound cut her off.

"I'm not going near a town so close to the Eyrie and neither are these girls."

Arya spoke up. "I want to go!"

The Hound scowled at her. "I know you'll do whatever you want, but your sister isn't going, with her red hair and her pretty face. Someone would send word to Baelish and that would be the end of us."

"Sandor's right, Arya," said Sansa. "He's too noticeable and so am I."

Brienne said briskly, "Then I'll go, with Podrick and Arya."

"Then you'll walk," said the Hound, "because you're not taking my horse."

Brienne looked frustrated and Podrick said diffidently, "Milady, it's probably better if I stay here. You and Arya could pass as a mother and daughter…" He gulped. "Especially if you leave your armor and your sword behind."

The blond woman gave her squire a hard look, but he returned it calmly and the Hound said, "The boy's right. Both of you will have to leave your swords." Arya looked outraged but he went on quietly, "You know Baelish will have our descriptions out. Without your sword, you're just another little girl. You and Brienne won't call for a second look."

Arya turned what Sandor had said over in her mind, then nodded reluctantly. The conversation died out, and before long they settled down for the night, the Hound taking the first watch, to be followed by Podrick and then Brienne. There were no alarms, and the small group was almost cheerful in the morning as they breakfasted prior to Brienne and Arya setting out on the girl's horses.

"How much money do you have?" asked Sandor.

"Enough," Brienne replied proudly.

He sighed and pulled out a gold dragon. "Better take this."

"I don't need it."

"You might." Sandor pointed to Sansa, leaning on Arya's horse and speaking earnestly to her sister. "Do you see the two of them? You might need an extra horse just to bring back everything they want to buy."

Brienne bit back a smile. "Podrick!"

Her squire came running. "Yes, milady?"

"Is there anything you want?"

"No, milady." He squirmed under her gaze. "Well, I could use a new knife. And maybe you could pick up some fishing tackle, hooks and lines and such. With all the streams in the Riverlands, we could have fresh fish every day."

Sansa came over to Sandor. "What about you?"

"Some wine." He called to Arya, "See that you get a good big skin of it, do you hear?"

"Do you want some candy too?" she asked.

The Hound marched over to Arya's horse, catching the bridle and pulling her close to whisper in her ear. She looked at him with an amused expression and he said gruffly, "Just get it." He slapped her horse across the rump and it took off. Brienne spurred her own horse, and the three left behind watched them ride away.

Podrick yawned. "If it's all the same to you, I'm going to have a bit of a sleep. That middle watch is the worst. Unless you need something done?" His question was directed halfway between Sandor and Sansa, but it was the girl who answered for them both.

"No, we don't need anything. You can sleep."

Podrick nodded gratefully and lay down, soon drifting off, and Sansa touched Sandor's arm. "Would you take a walk with me?"

He gazed at her, thinking he would walk to the ends of the earth with her, but all he said was, "Aye." They set out, the beautiful redhead and the scarred man, walking in a companionable silence until she stopped and sat down in the grass.

The Hound stood, staring into the distance, and Sansa patted the ground. "You can sit down, you know." He dropped to the ground and she said softly, "I wanted to talk to you." He turned his head and their eyes met and she felt the heat of his gaze as if it were an open fire. Then he lay back in the grass, his hands linked behind his head, waiting for whatever she had to say, and she took a moment to still the trembling in her heart. "I wanted to thank you, for everything you've done for Arya...and for me. You've always been so brave and strong…"

"I'm not as brave as you think I am, little bird." Sandor watched the clouds sailing across the sky. "If I was really brave, I wouldn't have left you in King's Landing. I would have stayed when you didn't want to go instead of running away like a cowardly dog."

The sun was blotted out as she leaned over him. "But if you had stayed, you wouldn't have been able to save Arya. I would never have seen my sister again, and we wouldn't all be together now."

The Hound looked up at the girl. He had suffered such an agony of shame at leaving her to the mercy of Joffrey and the queen that he had never really thought about what he had done in any other light. "So you think some good came of it?"

"Don't you think so?" Sansa pulled back as Sandor sat up.

"Aye, some good came of it. We're all fugitives, with prices on our heads and nowhere to go…" His voice was bitter and Sansa laid a hand on his arm.

"It's better than King's Landing," she whispered.

He sighed and nodded. "It's better than King's Landing." He got to his feet, reaching down a hand to pull her up, and Sansa held onto his hand a moment longer than necessary. What was it about this man? He was too old for her, he wasn't handsome at all, he didn't have courtly ways or pretty words, yet somehow he had grown in her heart until there was no room for anyone else.


	13. Chapter 13

Brienne and Arya returned late in the day, leading two horses saddled, bridled, and heavily laden with bundles. Podrick and Sansa went to help unload the horses as Arya slid to the ground and handed a flask to Sandor. "There's your wine."

"I told you to get a skin."

"I did. I just thought you might want something smaller than a skin to drink from. Or were you planning to drink it all tonight?"

He glared at her, then cracked the flask open and took a deep swallow. "And did you get…"

Arya pointed to the horses, where Sansa had found a small package tied to her sister's saddle. She unwrapped it and stared with surprise, then ran over to Sandor. "You told Arya to get me a lemon cake."

"Best enjoy it," said Sandor. "It may be the last one you ever see."

She broke a piece off and tasted it, then offered pieces to Arya and the Hound. "Isn't that delicious?"

"It's all right," said Arya. She looked up at Sandor. "It's good you didn't go to the town with us. There was a crier announcing the bounties on you."

He frowned. "Bounties?"

"I'm afraid so." Brienne joined them. "The Lannisters are offering a hundred silver stags, and Petyr Baelish will pay three hundred silver stags for your head, and five hundred if you're taken alive."

"And the girls?"

"No bounties, but a promise of the favor of the Lord Protector of the Vale if they're returned to the Eyrie unharmed." Brienne bit her lip. "No one noticed Arya and me, but if you or Sansa had gone into that town, we would have been taken before we reached the market. A lot of people were talking about you and what you look like." She sounded grimly amused. "They couldn't seem to agree on which side of your face had been burned, but they have a fair idea of your appearance, and of Sansa's. There aren't many redheads in Westeros."

Sansa and Arya were staring anxiously at the Hound and he forced himself to say calmly, "Well, we won't be going into any towns then. We have enough to carry us a good long way from here, and when we need more, we'll just do as we did today. Now where's that skin of wine?"

They made a good meal that night, grilling chops over the fire. Sandor looked askance at the meat, but Brienne said they would have more than enough of traveling rations before they were done and she wanted the girls to have some fresh food when there was a chance. She had also purchased a little fruit, and when Sansa had shared her lemon cake, they all felt more content than they had in days.

Except for the Hound. Brienne set Podrick to scouring the dishes after they finished eating, then the two of them started going over the supplies and equipment and sorting it for packing in the morning. Sandor just sat by the fire, staring into the flames, his mind in turmoil.

Sansa came to sit next to him. "You look worried."

"I'm a walking bag of silver." He avoided her eyes. "I'm thinking it may be time we parted ways."

Arya had followed her sister and now she sat on the other side of the Hound. "You don't have to worry about the bounties. I told Brienne if she tried to collect them, I would cut off her head and hang it in a tree. And I'll kill Podrick too."

"Arya! You don't mean that!" Sansa was genuinely shocked and her sister blew out her breath in exasperation.

"Sansa, how do you think I've stayed alive this long? I didn't want you to know, but maybe it's better you do. I've had to _kill _people, do you understand? Kill them dead because they were going to kill me. And if Brienne tries to hurt us, I'm going to put her on my list and kill her too." Her voice was very low, but there was a disturbing intensity to it.

Sansa looked helplessly at Sandor. "Is this true?" He nodded and she said, "Arya, those names you say every night…"

"They're on my list. If I ever get the chance, I'm going to kill them all."

Sansa burst into tears. "This is all my fault." Sandor and Arya stared at her in astonishment as she sobbed, "If I had told the truth about Joffrey, we'd all be safe at home in Winterfell. Lady would still be alive, even your friend the butcher's boy…"

Sandor put his arm around Sansa. "None of this is your fault, little bird. You did what you thought was right at the time. That's all anybody can do."

"Sansa, I don't blame you for Mycah. I don't even blame Sandor any more. It was all Joffrey's doing, and now he's dead." Arya patted her sister's hand and Sansa leaned against the Hound and tried to calm herself.

"That isn't much comfort. Oh, Arya, everything is so wrong now. We don't have anything left."

"You have each other," said the Hound gruffly. "You see what my brother did to me. My own brother. You're supposed to love your brother, protect him and help him...I never had that. At least your sister loves you. That has to be worth something."

Sansa caught Arya's hand. "It is. I'm sorry, Arya...I'm so sorry...for everything."

"It's all right, Sansa. Really it is. I'll probably never see anybody from that list anyway."

The Hound looked from one girl to the other. "There. All better now. And when I'm gone…"

"You're not going anywhere," said Arya calmly.

Sandor took a deep breath. "There's too much money to be made off me, and I'm far too easily spotted with this face. I'm a danger to you now."

"I don't care." Arya stood up. "I'm going to make sure Podrick hobbles the horses right. Don't even think of leaving, because if you do I'll follow you wherever you go." She walked off and the Hound scowled.

"Your sister is the most stubborn unreasonable little…"

"Yes, she is," said Sansa. She wiped her eyes and sat up straight. "But she's right. You can't leave us, Sandor. You're the only one I feel safe with."


	14. Chapter 14

Brienne was on watch the next morning in the dark hour before the dawn when her squire got up and went over to his saddlebag. "Podrick, what are you doing?"

He pulled out a few items. "I'm going to try out these fishing lines. With a little luck, we'll have fish for breakfast." He closed the saddlebag and came over to Brienne, casting a glance at their companions. Sandor, Sansa, and Arya were all still deeply asleep, but Podrick lowered his voice anyway. "Milady, are you sure you still want to travel with them? You heard them last night."

Brienne sighed. "I heard them. Did you expect them to trust us immediately?"

"No, but I didn't expect them to be planning to kill us either."

"Nonsense, Podrick. Arya may have threatened us…"

"I believe her, milady."

The blond woman looked thoughtfully at the girl. "I believe her too. And I believe if we make one wrong move, the Hound will do his best to kill us, but I can't let that stand in the way of my oath. I swore to their mother…"

"You swore to their mother you would take them home," whispered Podrick. "Their home is gone and their family is dead. The Hound is right about there being no safety anywhere. What are we going to do?"

"I have an idea about that." Brienne patted Podrick reassuringly on the shoulder. "Go see if you can catch us some breakfast and we'll talk about it when you get back."

Podrick returned as the sun was coming up, carrying two fish big enough to feed everyone in the camp. He smiled brightly as Brienne said approvingly, "Well done, Podrick! Very well done."

"Thank you, milady." He laid the fish on the ground and took out his knife. "So what is your idea?" He swiftly cleaned the fish and set them to cooking over the fire.

"Let's wait until they wake up and we can all talk together, Podrick."

As is happened, the cooking smell woke Arya very quickly, and she shook Sansa and Sandor awake. They were all delighted with the fish and the five travelers made a very pleasant meal together. After it was over, Podrick gathered the dishes to clean them but Brienne told him to wait.

"I have been thinking about where we might go," she began. The Hound moved restlessly. "I know you are right, Sandor, about there being no safety anywhere, and yet I believe there may be a place of refuge."

He leaned forward. "And where might that be?"

Brienne smiled. "My own home, the island of Tarth." They were all trading glances, obviously puzzled, and she elaborated, "I am sure that if we could get there, we would be as safe as it is possible to be."

Sansa and Arya were looking hopeful and even Sandor seemed interested. "Just where is Tarth located?"

She took a deep breath. "In the Stormlands."

"The Stormlands!" Sandor exploded with anger. "South of King's Landing, you mean." Sansa and Arya drew close to him as he stood up, his sword half out. "Are you trying to get us all killed...or is it that you're working for the Lannisters after all and you mean to sell us to the queen?"

Brienne remained seated, her hands well away from her sword. Podrick, taking his cue from his mistress, didn't move a muscle either, and for a moment nobody spoke. It was Sansa who broke the silence. "Brienne, I don't want to believe you're trying to betray us, but it sounds crazy to go anywhere near King's Landing."

"I know." The blond woman shook her head. "It is crazy. It's so dangerous nothing could justify it...except the fact that everywhere else is even more dangerous." Everyone was silent, digesting what she said, and after a moment she went on. "To travel through the Crownlands is to invite capture, but I don't see any safer course of action. Westeros is torn by war in every direction. You said it yourself, Sandor-most of the Starks are dead, and Winterfell is gone. We can't just travel around-we need a place to stay. A safe place, and Tarth is an island. If we can get there…"

"Aye, if we can get there." The Hound shook his head. "I can't deny what you say makes sense." He looked at Sansa and Arya and they nodded their heads. "We'll try it your way." The blond woman smiled and he said harshly, "Only because we have nowhere else to go. And if you try to sell us, you'll never live to collect your money."


	15. Chapter 15

They traveled a full week without incident, falling into a routine of getting up at first light and having a quick breakfast, walking the horses at an easy pace, stopping for a meal around the middle of the day, and continuing until the shadows lengthened, at which point they would find a place to camp for the night. There were diversions. Sometimes Arya would challenge Sansa to a race, or Brienne would spar with Sandor. Whenever they came upon a stream, they would stop and break out the fishing tackle. To no one's surprise, Arya and the Hound argued constantly over who was better at fishing, and it was amusing to watch them squabble over the best spot to cast a line. Arya generally caught more fish, but Sandor tended to reel in the bigger catch, and Sansa learned to exercise diplomacy, assuring them that she admired them both for their skill. Brienne and Sansa could never quite master the trick of getting a fish on the line and landing it on the bank, but Podrick was also very capable and there was always enough for a good meal.

There were no streams today and the little group moved steadily across the open fields, Brienne and Podrick in front and the Hound following with the girls. Fleecy white clouds drifted across the sky, cutting off and revealing the sun and dappling the grass with shadows. A gentle breeze kept them cool, and the air was alive with butterflies attracted to the multitude of wildflowers that delicately scented the air. It was all so peaceful that even Sandor relaxed enough to smile and agree with Sansa when she remarked what a beautiful day it was. Then they caught sight of a ruined cottage in the distance and Arya spurred her horse towards it.

The Hound swore, galloping after her, and Sansa, utterly bewildered, followed with Brienne and Podrick. They caught up with Arya and the Hound in the yard before the cottage. Sandor had dismounted and was standing quietly holding Stranger's reins, while Arya cursed at him with a fluency that caused Sansa to blush down to her collarbone and Brienne's jaw to drop open. As her sister rode into the yard, Arya abruptly halted her abuse and took off again. Brienne and Podrick followed her, and Sansa pulled up her horse and jumped to the ground.

Sandor's face was as white as a sheet and Sansa went up to Stranger and took out the wine flask. "Here," she said gently, offering it to the Hound. He just looked at her, and seeing that he was in some kind of shock, she took his arm, led him over to a stump, and made him sit. He obeyed her with a passiveness that frightened her, and she held the flask to his mouth. "Drink this, Sandor." He took a single swallow and she tilted the flask again. "Drink it all. Now." He gulped down the rest of the flask and some color returned to his face but he was trembling and there was a lost look in his eyes. Sansa took a deep breath. "What is this place?" He didn't respond, and she took him by the shoulder and shook him as hard as she could. "Answer me, Sandor. What is this place?"

"Farm," he muttered. "Used to be."

Sansa frowned. "I can see that." She looked at the cottage, burnt out, the roof fallen in, and a sudden thought sickened her. "Did you do this?" He nodded and she swayed, a wave of dizziness sweeping over her. "Why?"

"I needed the money." The Hound avoided her eyes, and Sansa struggled to remain calm.

"You mean you burnt this cottage for money?" Sansa heard herself saying the words and they unexpectedly restored her composure. Whatever crimes Sandor Clegane had committed, setting fires was not one of them, and now she knelt beside him and turned his face to hers. "Tell me what happened here, Sandor."

He shuddered. "Your sister and I...we came upon the man who lived here, him and his daughter. Sally, I think her name was...she made very good rabbit stew…" He was rambling and she shook his arm. "What happened to them?"

The Hound sighed. "They took us in, fed us...the man offered me money if I would stay and work for him, he was afraid of...of all the men wandering the countryside, thieving and raping and killing. He wanted to hire me to keep him and his daughter safe." He fell silent for a moment, then went on. "We slept in the barn that night, and the next morning, before Arya woke up, I went into the cottage and took every piece of silver they had. The man tried to stop me, and I hit him, and his daughter screamed...your sister came out, cursing me for a thief...and I said...I said they're too weak to live and...and dead men don't need silver."

"Were they alive when you left?" asked Sansa.

Sandor looked surprised. "Aye."

"Then you didn't do this."

"I took their last bit of money...it was all they had...I told you I wasn't as brave as you thought I was…" His voice was flat but she could hear the agony under it. "I'm not as good as you think I am either."

Sansa took a moment to collect her thoughts, then pulled a scrap of a handkerchief out of her pocket. "Do you remember this?"

He took it and turned it over in his hand. "You kept it all this time?" There was a faint stain where he had wiped the blood from her mouth the day Joffrey showed her her father's head and ordered Meryn Trant to strike her.

Sansa put her hand over his. "After you left, whenever I was afraid, I held this in my hand." She smiled a little. "It probably sounds stupid, but it was a comfort to me. You're not just a killer, Sandor." She held his eyes with her own. "You're more than that now."

Podrick came riding up. "Milady, your sister and my mistress are making camp. Will you join us?"

"Of course." Sansa stood up and reached a hand down to Sandor, and he took it and got to his feet, then went slowly over to his horse and swung himself into the saddle. Sansa mounted her own horse and followed Podrick, keeping close to the Hound.

They rode into the camp to find the other three horses settled for the night and grazing contentedly. Brienne was tending a small fire, while Arya sat to one side, staring moodily into the flames. She looked up as they dismounted and Sansa handed the reins of her horse and Stranger to Podrick. The young man looked nervous at handling Sandor's horse, but the Hound spoke to Stranger and although the big animal flattened his ears for a moment, he went quietly enough with Podrick.

Sandor watched the horses being led away, then sat down where he stood, apart from the fire and the others. Sansa sat beside him, trying and failing to find something to say and hoping that her mere presence would be a comfort. Then Arya came over, and the Hound flinched as she dropped to the ground next to him.

Sansa glared at her. "Arya…" she began, but her sister cut her off.

"I shouldn't have acted the way I did," said Arya crossly. "I know that man and his daughter didn't have much of a chance, but it was a shock to see their cottage like that, to know they were dead…" She looked squarely at the Hound. "It was as much my fault as yours. I know we needed money to live on and the only reason you took it was because of me."

"What difference does it make why I did it?" asked Sandor wearily.

To that, there was no answer.


	16. Chapter 16

The days that followed were fraught with tension, the camaraderie that had been growing among the travelers completely shattered. Brienne and Podrick were hurt at their exclusion from the information the others shared about the burned cottage and kept very much to themselves. Arya was still upset and rebuffed every attempt by Sansa to comfort her. And Sandor crawled into a shell, lagging behind the others and morosely silent even when spoken to. On the evening of the third day they spotted a river in the distance, and Sansa decided to take matters into her own hands.

"Tonight we're going fishing. All of us." Sansa looked around to see the reaction to her announcement and it was not encouraging. Brienne and Podrick showed a distinct lack of enthusiasm, Arya shrugged, and Sandor didn't seem to have heard her at all. "And the one who catches the fewest fish will have to clean the whole catch. Arya, that means you'll probably be stuck with a dirty job."

Her sister glared. "If anyone gets stuck, it'll be you or Brienne. I can never decide which one of you is worse at fishing."

Brienne said dryly, "I caught a pretty good fish last week."

Arya snorted. "Podrick getting a fish on the line and you netting it when he brings it in doesn't count."

"Yes, it does!" Podrick protested. "I could never have landed that big fish by myself, so my lady gets part of the credit."

Sansa fell back to ride beside Sandor and smiled at the big man. "They're starting to sound more like themselves, don't you think?" He just looked at her and she snapped, "You could say something, you know. I don't expect a brilliant conversation but when I talk to you and you don't say anything back, it hurts my feelings."

"What do you want me to say?" The Hound's voice sounded rusty with disuse but at least he was talking.

"Don't you think it's a good idea to go fishing?" Sansa looked hopefully at Sandor.

He nodded, she blew out her breath in exasperation, and he said dully, "You've already decided what we're going to do. Why even ask?"

"Sandor." She pulled up her horse and he turned Stranger around and stopped beside her. He waited patiently for her to speak and she thought of what she wanted to say to him-that she didn't blame him for what had happened at the cottage and he had brooded long enough, but he had already heard these things and it hadn't helped. "Will you put the worm on the hook for me?"

He looked surprised. "Don't I always?"

Sansa reached over and touched his hand. "Yes, you do. I can always count on you, can't I?"

The merest spark lit his eyes. "You can count on me, little bird."

Sansa nodded, satisfied, then kicked her horse into a trot, her heart soaring as Sandor kept up with her for the first time in days.


	17. Chapter 17

Arya giggled as Sansa looked disconsolately at the pile of fish on the bank. Even Brienne had managed to catch a fish. It was so small they had thrown it back, but it was one more than Sansa had caught and now she was going to have to live up to her word and clean the whole catch. Brienne rode back to camp with Podrick with an unbearably smug expression on her face, and even Sandor seemed gratified by Sansa's predicament.

"I would offer to help you, little bird, if I weren't afraid of getting my eyes pecked out."

She shot him a black look. "All this time you have no sense of humor and this is the thing you choose to find amusing?"

Arya giggled, then assumed a grave expression as Sansa turned to her. "I'll help you with the fish, Sansa." She waved a hand in Sandor's direction. "And since you're useless, you can go back to camp and just wait until we're done."

Sandor swung into his saddle and made a courtly bow. "As you wish. Don't be too long, ladies."

He rode off and Sansa turned to Arya with indignation. "Was he laughing?"

Arya tested the edge of her knife and started on the biggest fish. "He never laughs. He may sneer from time to time, but he never laughs."

Sansa picked up a fish and copied Arya's swift movements, slitting its belly and pulling out the guts. She was sure she had heard a chuckle from the direction Sandor rode off in, but she was soon too busy to think about it. The sisters worked steadily, gutting the fish and cleaning them off in the river, and the sun was just starting its descent when they started back to the camp.

"I will never get the smell of fish off my hands," moaned Sansa, sniffing her fingers.

Arya frowned. "Sansa, be quiet."

"Don't tell me to be quiet." The tall redhead glared at her sister, then jumped, startled, as Arya cut her off and grabbed the reins of her horse. "What is it?" she whispered.

Arya held up a hand and then Sansa heard it too-shouting and the clashing of blades coming from the direction of the camp. She tried to wrench her reins back from Arya and her sister pulled on them, wheeling both horses around and taking them into a thicket. She slid to the ground, tying the horses to a tree and motioning to her sister to get down.

Sansa dismounted slowly, then whispered, "What's happening?"

"I don't know." Arya took a deep breath. "I'm going to go take a look. Wait here-I'll be right back."

"I'm not staying here by myself."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Fine, you can come, but you have to be quiet, Sansa."

The redhead nodded and the two girls crept closer to the camp, finally stopping behind some tangled brambles that hid them from view. Sansa clapped a hand across her mouth to hold back a cry of horror. Brienne and Podrick were on their knees with knives at their throats and the Hound lay face down, motionless, another man bringing a sword down on his unprotected back. Sansa closed her eyes-she couldn't bear to watch Sandor die, then opened them as she heard someone shout, "Stop!"

A fourth man, older than the others, marched across the clearing and knocked Sandor's assailant back. "I told you I wanted them all alive."

"Even dead, this one is worth three hundred silver stags." The younger man kicked the Hound in the side. "He's killed two of our men, Kern. Why keep him alive?"

For the first time Sansa saw the bodies lying across each other in front of Sandor, and she listened anxiously for Kern's response, which began with a hard blow across his subordinate's face. "You're a fool, Tomlin. In the first place, Sandor Clegane is worth five hundred silver stags if we deliver him alive. In the second place, we want the Stark girls. Do you see them anywhere? Clegane should know, if anyone does, where to find them."

"And you think he'll tell us?" Tomlin's voice was surly, but there was a note of deference in it.

Kern smiled unpleasantly. "I think if we ask him the right way, he'll tell us anything we want to know. Now get the horses."

The two sisters watched as the men tied Brienne and Podrick's hands and put them up on their horses. They approached Stranger to untie him and the horse stood quietly until he was loose, when he reared and struck at them, screaming. The men fell back before the enraged animal, and Stranger galloped off, snapping at Kern as he passed him.

The man blew out his breath in annoyance. "Put Clegane on Rory's horse. He won't be needing it anymore."

"We should be taking Rory's body back for a decent burial!" one of the men protested. The others murmured their agreement and Kern looked around slowly, smiling unpleasantly as they dropped their eyes. Only Tomlin held his gaze for a moment, then he too fell silent.

"When we get to Maidenpool, we'll send a couple of the townspeople to bring in the bodies. Right now I want to get these people under lock and key." He bent over and rolled the Hound on his back, then grabbed his hands and pulled him up. One of the men led a horse over, and together they heaved Sandor over the saddle, then tied his hands and lashed him down.

"What do you want to do with the supplies?" asked Tomlin.

Kern shrugged. "We'll have the townspeople bring it all back. Let's go."

They rode off and after they disappeared in the distance, Sansa and Arya cautiously emerged, staring around the ravaged camp in dismay. There was blood on the ground where Sandor had fallen, and Sansa blinked back tears. "What are we going to do, Arya?"

Her sister went to get their horses and started loading the supplies on them. "We're going to get out of here."

Sansa grabbed Arya's arm. "We can't just leave! We have to help them."

The younger girl wrenched herself free. "I'm open to suggestions but we don't even know where they were taken."

"Maidenpool."

"All right, Maidenpool." Arya sighed. "We can't just go into a strange town, Sansa. You heard those men-they're looking for us too. And they're sending people to bury the bodies." Her eyes flicked over the two corpses and Sansa swallowed hard as her sister continued. "We have to find a place to hide, then we can talk about what to do."

"So you're not just thinking of leaving Brienne and Podrick and...and Sandor behind?"

Arya looked at Sansa as if her sister had suddenly sprouted a second head. "Of course not. Sandor may be the worst shit in Westeros…"

"Arya." The tall redhead shook her head at her sister's language and the younger girl laughed.

"Still the perfect lady? All right, Sandor may be the worst man in Westeros, but he's the only friend we've got in the world. Brienne and Podrick…" Arya shrugged. "We might as well save them too, since they're probably locked up with Sandor."

Sansa hid a smile at the expression of worry under Arya's tough talk, and agreed that her sister was right.


	18. Chapter 18

Night fell before Arya decided on a spot for her and Sansa to camp, settling on a tiny clearing deep in the forest. They unloaded the horses and made a sparse meal off their traveling rations, then spread out their blankets and curled up next to each other.

"I wish we could have a fire," Sansa whispered.

"We can't take a chance on it being seen," said Arya. "And why are you whispering?"

"I don't know." Sansa's voice returned to normal. "I'm just scared, Arya."

"We'll be all right. If there's one thing I learned traveling with the Hound, it was how to take care of myself."

"I didn't mean that. I'm scared about what's happening to our friends." Sansa's voice trembled. "What if...what if they're being tortured, or they're so badly hurt that…"

Arya interrupted her sister. "You heard those men. They want Sandor alive. They're not going to hurt him too badly. And they probably won't do anything at all to Brienne and Podrick. Besides, we're going to get them out."

"You have a plan?"

The younger girl sat up and her sister followed suit. "I have an idea. Tomorrow I'll go into the town and scout around, see where they were taken. With a little luck, I should learn enough for us to make a plan." She broke off as a twig snapped.

"What was that?" Sansa was back to whispering.

Arya held a finger to her lips and took Sansa's hand, pulling her to her feet. They crept into the bushes and watched breathlessly as the sound of something moving in the woods approached. Then Sansa laughed with relief and ran out into the clearing.

Stranger lowered his head and pushed her with his nose and she petted him, marveling to Arya, "Can you believe he found us?"

Arya approached the big horse more cautiously, looking around to make sure he hadn't been followed, then joined Sansa in stroking his neck. "He probably followed our horses when we left the camp. I'll unsaddle him-can you get his bridle?"

Sansa nodded, pulling at the leather straps. "I'm surprised Sandor didn't take this off."

Arya said pensively, "They must have been attacked just as they were starting to set up camp. I wonder how those men came across us?"

"I'm hoping it was just bad luck," said Sansa, dropping the bridle on the ground.

"So am I." Arya set down the saddle and slapped Stranger on the rump. "Go find something to eat."

"Aren't you going to hobble him?" asked Sansa.

The younger girl shook her head. "He couldn't find Sandor so we're the next best thing. He won't go anywhere now that he's found us. I suppose we'd better tie him up tomorrow before I go into town. He might not want to stay with you-he might follow me to see if I lead him to Sandor."

"That reminds me." Sansa dug in her pocket and took out a silver coin. "When you go into town, there's something I want you to pick up.


	19. Chapter 19

Maidenpool was a small town in the Riverlands, but its location on the southern shore of the Bay of Crabs had long made it a favored resting place for travelers who either came into the busy harbor or arrived on one of the two main roads to King's Landing. Those in a hurry went through Duskendale, while those who were more interested in the journey than the destination enjoyed leisurely trips along the coast. There were a number of inns and strangers were accepted as part and parcel of daily life.

Arya came down to Maidenpool from the hills to the east, noting the pink stone walls that encircled it and the small castle at the very edge of the town, its white walls shining in the sun. There were a number of leather coracles dotting the harbor and a general air of bustle in the streets. No one so much as turned to give a second glance at what seemed to be a young boy wandering through the town.

She stopped opposite a flight of steps that led under a knacker's barn and stared, puzzled, at the many people coming and going, then grinned and crossed the street, running lightly down the stairs and into the cellar under the barn. A large sign against one wall proclaimed the place to be The Stinking Goose, and while there were no birds, it certainly lived up to its name. A reek of wine, damp, and mildew, with a whiff of privy, pervaded the big room, and the noise of the crowd, after the quiet months of the countryside, made her head ache.

"What'll you have, boy?" A fat woman in a dirty smock leered at Arya and the girl smiled.

"A pint of beer." Arya held out a copper coin and as the woman reached for it, she closed her hand. "And a little information. I'm looking for someone."

The woman's eyes shifted. "I don't know no one."

"That's too bad." Arya tossed the coin. "I would give five of these to learn the whereabouts of the man who stole my horse."

The woman stared at the coin. "What man would that be?"

"A big ugly one, with half his face burned off. He knocked me off my horse and took it for himself."

"You said five coins?" Arya nodded and produced the money and after a moment the woman said quietly, "You needn't worry about him. He's in the castle, him and two others. They're special prisoners, they are, and word's already been sent to the Lord of the Vale about them."

Arya's heart sank but she handed over the coins and took her beer, melting into the crowd and slipping out without calling any further attention to herself. Outside, she walked briskly towards the castle.

It was very small as castles go, but beautifully proportioned, built out of white granite and guarded by a tower at either side of the gate. Arya regarded it thoughtfully, then marched up to the gate and started through.

"Halt!" A guard held a spear across her path. "Where do you think you're going, boy?"

She looked at him with a stupid expression. "I just wanted to see inside."

The guard laughed and grounded his spear. "No one goes inside without permission. Be off with you now."

Arya shrugged, her sharp eyes taking in the courtyard beyond the gate. Several other guards were lounging about and there was a big fire in the center. "That's a lot of people."

The guard glanced over his shoulder. "We have some dangerous prisoners."

The girl's eyes widened. "Dangerous?"

"Very dangerous." The guard bent over. "They killed a little boy just your size and _ate_ him."

Arya swallowed hard. "I hope you locked them in the dungeon!"

"They're safe enough where they are." The guard nodded to the tower at the left of the gate, chuckling as Arya ran off. "See that their friends don't catch you, boy! You're too skinny to eat but they might want to pick their teeth with your bones!"


	20. Chapter 20

"Aren't we too close?" Sansa whispered, peering through the bushes at the lights of the town.

Arya finished tying the last horse to a tree and joined her sister. "Maybe, but if this works we have to get to the horses fast or we won't have a chance. And why are you whispering?"

"Because I'm scared!" Sansa stood up, fussing with her clothes, and Arya regarded her thoughtfully.

"If I was dressed like that I'd be scared too. I can't believe you wanted me to buy those things."

Sansa wore a thin white vest, half buttoned and showing the tops of her young breasts, and a bright red skirt that fell to the ground and was slit up one side almost to her waist, showing bare thigh with every step. Arya shook her head and her sister glared. "Do you have a better idea of how to get into the castle?"

"No, but if you go in there looking like a whore, they're going to treat you like a whore."

Sansa shuddered and twisted her hands together but her voice was very steady when she spoke. "I'm counting on you to get to Sandor before they have time to do anything." Arya made to protest and the tall redhead wrapped a cloak around herself and pulled up the hood. "We have to try, Arya. We can't leave him...them, we can't leave them like that."

The two girls crept along the wall of the town until they reached the gates, where they slipped through the crowds and headed for the castle. A different man was on guard and Arya took her sister's hand and was startled by the icy coldness of it. "Sansa, are you sure you want to do this?"

Sansa pulled her hand away and walked up to the guard, throwing back her hood and giving him a dazzling smile. He smiled back and she let her cloak fall open. His smile widened. "You'll catch your death of cold walking around like that in the night."

"Not if you get me a drink." Sansa jumped as the man took her arm and he laughed.

"Not shy, are you?"

"That depends." She took a deep breath. "I usually like to be alone with a man."

The guard ran his hand down her arm. "Then you're in luck, girl, because tonight it's just me. Everybody else went out to celebrate the reward we'll be collecting soon."

Sansa's eyes widened. "Really? Isn't that dangerous, leaving one man to guard the whole castle?"

He shrugged. "In a little town like this? One guard is all we usually have. There were a few extra men this afternoon, but they've all gone out on the town. Like I said, it's just you and me."

Looking back as they started inside, Sansa caught Arya's eyes and beckoned frantically with her free hand. Now that she was actually being taken into the castle, a torrent of second thoughts had descended upon her and her heart was racing. If it were not for Sandor, she would have turned and run straight into the forest and not stopped until she was too exhausted to take another step.

Sandor. Sansa's gaze turned to the tower on the left and as frightened as she was, she smiled to herself at the sight of her sister coming stealthily through the gate and slipping into the left tower. Whatever else might happen, Arya would find Sandor and get him out. All Sansa had to do now was get out herself.


	21. Chapter 21

Arya slunk along the corridor, looking for the guardroom. She found it almost immediately, and taking down the keys hanging on the wall, she began her search. Once again she was in luck-the second cell she peeped into contained all three of her friends-Brienne and Podrick sitting side by side against the wall and the Hound lying on a heap of straw in a corner. Holding her breath, Arya began trying the keys.

Brienne and Podrick looked up as the door was unlocked, then jumped to their feet in astonishment as Arya appeared. "How did you…" the young man began, then shrugged and grinned. "Come to think of it, never mind. You're a sight for sore eyes, my lady."

"I'm not a lady," said Arya, going over to the Hound and shaking him. The good side of his face looked as bad as the burned side, with a bad cut on his forehead and dried blood like a mask. He groaned and opened his eyes.

"So they got you too?" He sat up abruptly. "Where's your sister?"

"They didn't get me, Sandor," said Arya urgently. "Sansa and me came to get you out but we have to hurry. Are you all right?"

The Hound held onto Arya as he stood up, shaking his head to clear it, a baleful light in his eyes. "I asked you where your sister was."

"I'm right here." Sansa stood in the doorway, her face as white as a sheet. In her hand was a bloody knife.

Arya got to her first. "What_ happened_?"

The tall redhead dropped the knife. "You told me to keep it in my boot, remember? You said to go for their eyes or their throat, that's the quickest way to kill a man…" Her voice trailed away.

Sandor took in Sansa's clothes, then pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around her. "You must be daft to come in here dressed like that," he said roughly. "Do you want to be raped to death?" His words brought tears to her eyes and relenting he put an arm around her. "It's all right, little bird. So you got the guard out of the way? That was very brave of you."

"He put his hands on me," Sansa sobbed into his shoulder, "and I had the knife, and...and I didn't want to hurt him…"

Podrick had gone out and now he returned. "There was only one guard?"

Arya nodded. "We got lucky but there's no telling when the rest will come back. We have to go _now_."

Brienne came forward and put a hand on Sansa's arm. "Thank you. I could never have done what you did."

Their eyes met and Sansa managed a tremulous smile as she recalled what Brienne had told them about Jamie Lannister saving her from a gang rape. "It's Arya you should thank. She's the one who told me what to do with the knife."

"We can talk about this later," said the younger girl impatiently. Right now we have to _move_."

"I second that," said Podrick fervently.

"So do I," agreed Sansa. "I'm all right, Sandor. Really."

His arm tightened around her and for a moment she closed her eyes, then he released her. "Let's go, then."

"Wait." Brienne went to the door and looked out. "We shouldn't all go at once."

The Hound regarded her thoughtfully. "You're right. This is your big chance, Brienne of Tarth."

She looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you swore a sacred oath to protect these girls. Now you can. Take them out." Sansa made to speak and Sandor held up his hand. "It's not likely anybody will notice a woman with a couple of children." He pulled up the hood of his cloak over Sansa's red hair. "You'll be all right, little bird." She gazed up at him with a stricken face and he said reassuringly, "I'll be right behind you with Podrick. We'll just take a quick look around, see if we can find our weapons and any of our money those bastards didn't already spend and then we'll leave too." He turned to Podrick. "Lend me your hood." Podrick handed Sandor his hood and the big man pulled it on, drawing it forward to hide his face. "Go on now, Sansa."

She still hesitated. "You don't know where the horses are."

"I'll wait outside the walls to the left of the gates," said Arya briskly. "Don't keep me waiting, Sandor."


	22. Chapter 22

They stopped the horses only when the watery light of dawn spread over the land, pulling up by a little stream that meandered through the forest. The horses nosed eagerly at the water and Sandor dropped off Stranger and dragged him back, swearing and striking at the other animals. "They're too hot to drink yet! Don't any of you know anything about horses?"

Arya jumped down and between her and the Hound they managed to get the horses tied up and unsaddled. Sansa and Brienne and Podrick twisted clumps of grass and rubbed down the weary mounts, and after they were done, Arya took them one at a time to the water to drink, then hobbled them with Podrick's help so they could graze.

Sandor sat with his back against a tree, watching sourly as his companions tended the horses. "I would have thought by now you would all know how to care for horses better than that."

"Don't be so cranky," said Arya. "You act like you're the greatest expert in the world."

"I know enough not to let horses drink when they're hot," he grumbled.

"And how many years did it take for you to master that information?" she shot back.

His jaw tightened, then relaxed as Sansa knelt next to him, a bowl of water and a cloth in her hands. "And what do you want?"

"To clean away this blood." She started to sponge his face and he put up a hand.

"It's all right. It looks worse than it is."

"It looks horrible." She continued to work at the dried blood and he resigned himself to her ministrations. Arya came over and looked closely at the wound on his forehead, then went for a small pack on her saddle and came over with needle and thread.

The Hound glared at her. "I don't need stitches!"

"Yes, you do," said Arya. "Now hold still."

"You really do, Sandor," said Sansa.

Brienne and Podrick came over and the blonde woman bent down. "I think that could use a couple of stitches."

Sandor looked up at Podrick. "Don't you want a vote too?"

Podrick shuffled his feet. "Actually, it's better to be safe than sorry. That _is_ a nasty cut."

The Hound was about to erupt but the sight of Sansa's strained expression reminded him of the night before and the sight of her with a bloody knife and he sighed. If fussing over him would distract her from the thought of the man she had killed, so be it. "Fine, get on with it. Sansa, you should do something about your clothes."

She looked down at herself, blushed deeply, and hurried over to the pile of supplies, pulling out a tunic and a pair of pants. She went behind a bush to change, calling, "How did you get caught? Were they looking for us?"

"I don't think so," said Podrick, watching in fascination as Arya stitched up Sandor's forehead. He winced every time the needle went in but otherwise he was motionless. "Remember what good luck we had fishing?"

Sansa came out from behind the bush. "I wish we had those fish now."

Podrick sounded grimly amused. "It's something to keep in mind for the future. I never thought of it before, but good fishing spots are likely to be well known to everyone within ten miles. Those men were castle guards who knew about the reward on Sandor, but they weren't looking for us. They just happened across us on their way to that same place."

Sansa sat down next to Sandor. "You mean we can't fish any more?"

"We'll just have to be a lot more careful," said Brienne. "Scout ahead, and since I'm no good at fishing, I could stand guard." She and Podrick sat down across from Sandor. "They were upon us just as we finished unsaddling the horses and they had Podrick and me down before we even saw them."

"I was across the clearing and I barely had time to get my sword up," said the Hound. "I did for two of them but another one caught me across the head and that's the last thing I remember until I woke up in the castle."

Arya put in a last stitch and took out a small box. "Now for a little of that ointment Morwen gave me to keep this from getting infected…" She dabbed the wound and finished by tying a bandage on the Hound's head, then sat back to admire her handiwork. "Not bad if I do say so myself."

"Except for the smell," said Sandor crossly.

"You don't want to get sick again, do you?" asked Arya, her expression stern. He subsided and she looked at him with concern. "We heard they sent word to Littlefinger about capturing you."

He sighed. "They told us as much. Looks like you'll get your wish, Brienne."

The blonde woman frowned. "What wish?"

"They'll be after us now harder than ever and the only direction we can hope to escape is to the south, right through the Crownlands. No one would ever guess we'd take that direction but now we'll have to risk it."


	23. Chapter 23

They stayed in hiding for the rest of the day, setting out as the sun went down. For a full week they continued south, traveling by night and hiding by day, Sandor following a half mile behind to watch for pursuers. As time went by with no sign of anyone following them, they all gradually relaxed until the day when the sun started to set and Sandor stopped Brienne as she went to get the horses.

"I think it's safe to camp for the night and start traveling again by day."

Sansa smiled with pleasure. "Does that mean we can have a fire tonight?"

"Aye. You and and your sister can start collecting wood."

"What are you going to do?" asked Arya indignantly.

"Guard the camp while Brienne and Podrick take your horses and look for a town." The Hound went to Stranger's saddle, pulled out a small sack, and tossed it up, catching it with a satisfied expression. "Those bastards didn't spend all our money. I found this in the guardroom, so we still have fifty gold dragons, more than enough to get horses and supplies."

Sansa's eyes widened. "Are you sure it's a good idea for any of us to go into a town?"

"Probably not, but we can't keep going with only three horses." Sandor took out five gold coins and handed them to Brienne. "If you do find a town, don't just get horses. Buy as much food as you can, because I don't want to have to stop again for a long time."

Sansa looked as if she were going to protest but Brienne said, "He's right. You and your sister have been riding double among the three of us and that's too much of a strain on the horses. I'm surprised we've come as far as we have and we can't afford to get caught short." She looked thoughtfully at Sandor. "What would you think about getting an extra horse? We can carry a lot more supplies that way."

He nodded and took another coin out of the pouch. "Make sure you get one that's broken to ride." He watched Brienne and Podrick ride out on the girl's horses, then turned to Sansa and Arya and gestured to the surrounding forest. "Let's go."

"I thought you were going to guard the camp?" said Arya sourly.

The Hound glared at her. "I doubt the two of you can carry enough wood to keep a fire burning for an hour. Better I just go with you and get the job done right." He stomped off and Arya shrugged and followed with Sansa. It took two trips but by the time Brienne and Podrick returned, there was a small fire going with more than enough wood to last until the morning.

The blond woman was leading two horses and Podrick brought up the rear with a third. All three led horses were heavily loaded and the Hound snorted as the travelers dismounted. "We have to ride those animals, you know. I didn't mean for you to buy so much we'd have to walk."

"By the time we divide things up, it'll be all right," said Brienne briskly. "Podrick, start unloading the supplies, then you can go get some more wood for the fire after you've rubbed all the horses down and hobbled them for the night."

Podrick, his face pale and downcast, silently went about following Brienne's orders and Arya said indignantly, "You don't have to talk to him like a dog."

Brienne frowned at the girl and motioned her over to the fire. "For once in your life, Arya Stark, keep your mouth shut until you know what's going on."

Taken aback, Arya sat down with a sulky expression next to Sansa. The Hound regarded the blond woman for a moment with a thoughtful expression, then said quietly, "All right, tell us what's going on."

Brienne sighed, looked over her shoulder for Podrick, then sat across from the girls. "We found a town called Duskendale."

Sandor sat next to Sansa. "Duskendale? We have come a far piece. That's just north of King's Landing."

"It's quite a place." Brienne poked moodily at the fire. "Nobody even noticed Podrick and me, we were able to get everything we needed with no questions asked, and we were about to start back when Podrick…" She looked around again. "He wanted to get something to eat in town, wash it down with some ale. I thought there could be no harm so we stopped at an inn. The Seven Swords…"

Sandor nodded. "I've heard of it. Biggest inn the town has."

"They get all the news there," said Brienne absently. "I thought it would be a good thing to hear what's going on in the world." Her face twisted. "We heard, all right. Seems the Boltons have taken over Winterfell, and Stannis Baratheon challenged their occupation." She hesitated, staring at the scars on Sandor's face. "Stannis has...had...a red-headed woman traveling with him, supposedly a priestess of some kind…"

"I remember her!" said Arya. "She came to the Brotherhood Without Banners. She took Gendry away." Her eyes flashed. "She's an evil woman."

Brienne nodded. "She must have been." Her eyes lingered on Sandor's scars, then she went on softly. "She convinced Stannis to burn anyone who disagreed with her as an offering to her god, and when they were marching on Winterfell, she told him the only way to ensure victory was to…" She took a deep breath. "Stannis' daughter, Shireen…"

"His daughter? He..._burned_...his own daughter?" The Hound dropped his head, briefly touching the scars where his brother had pressed his face to a fire, then said steadily, "I hope that's not the end of it."

"It wasn't. The day after Stannis offered his daughter to Melisandre's god, half his army deserted. His wife Selyse hanged herself, and he still took the men he had left and attacked Winterfell. On foot, because the deserters took all the horses. He was taken alive, by Ramsay Bolton, both him and Melisandre."

"There are stories about Ramsay Bolton," said Sandor. "He's a cruel bastard."

Brienne shuddered. "It's said Stannis and Melisandre lived three days."

"What did he do to them?" asked Arya, her eyes shining in the firelight. Sansa put a hand to her mouth, then ran off into the shadows.

"You don't need to know!" The Hound snarled at her. "It's a bloodthirsty imp you're becoming but you're not getting ideas for your list from the likes of Ramsay Bolton."

"Podrick's very upset," said Brienne softly. "One of the men at the Seven Swords was with the Boltons and he was extremely...detailed...about what Ramsay got up to with his prisoners. I thought Podrick was going to faint right there, and I don't mind telling you I felt pretty sick myself. I don't want to talk about it any more and I'd rather none of you talked about it where Podrick can hear. He'll be all right. He just needs some time."

"Aye," said Sandor gruffly. He locked eyes with Arya. "None of us will say anything."

Arya looked rebellious, then said crankily, "Fine, I won't say anything." She grinned. "I'll find out on my own next time I get to go to town."

"That's up to you," said the Hound. "I know you'll do whatever you want, but don't upset Podrick or your sister or I'll give you a thrashing that will last the rest of your life."

"You wouldn't dare," said Arya contemptuously. Sandor's big hands knotted into fists and she said hastily, "I'm just kidding, Sandor."

He regarded her for a moment, then called, "Sansa!"

She came back slowly to the fire. "What?"

"Go get those clothes you wore to the castle in Maidenpool."

She looked at him strangely, then went over to her horse and got the flimsy garments. "What do you want these for?"

The Hound snatched them from her hands and threw them on the fire. "I've been waiting a week to do that. Don't ever let me see you dressed like that again." Sansa's eyes filled with tears and his voice gentled. "It's not worth the risk. Promise me?"

She nodded and sat between him and Arya again, leaning for a moment on his broad shoulder. Brienne got to her feet. "I'm going to help Podrick."


End file.
